Fidelity
by greysw
Summary: Not to worry. It's late, so it's nice and quiet in here," he said. "'Sides, it's an indisputable fact: nobody ever thinks to bug the bathroom." A conversation between Cavil and Shelley Godfrey, during Six Degrees of Separation.


Shelley Godfrey opened the hatch to the aft auxiliary head carefully, letting it slide shut silently. She locked it behind her.

"You're late."

"Sorry, One. It takes time to slip away, and every time I do it, it only adds to their suspicions. They've got Marines trailing me," she said. "They think I don't know."

"'Course they do. They're morons."

"Maybe. I don't like taking chances."

Cavil shrugged. "Suit yourself. We planned on a meeting today, and I for one like to be here on time." He put the emphasis on _for one_; she wasn't sure if he was just being snippy, or if that was supposed to be a model number joke.

"I'm not that late," she said.

He grunted an assent and turned away, changing the subject. "Hey, y'know how these trash chutes work? They're ingenious. You bag up all the trash and you toss it in here," he said, pointing to a wide slot in the wall, "and then it falls down to the bottom. Then every night at two o'clock, a hatch opens and it all goes _shoop_, right out into space. Not a single human has to attend to that; the ship takes care of it all. Just goes to show: there ain't nothing machines can't do, Six. _We_ are machines. We could be like that, if we wanted to."

Shelley raised an eyebrow. "We could be... like a garbage can?"

"Leave it to you to make it sound pedestrian. I was _thinking_ more like a seamless, well-oiled instrument, but I guess we're a garbage can now. Great. Big step up from a toaster."

She frowned. "Should you be saying that out loud?"

"Not to worry. It's late, so it's nice and quiet in here," he said. "'Sides, it's an indisputable fact: nobody ever thinks to bug the bathroom." He wandered over to look at himself in the mirror, frowning into his own face. He reached up to tap his fingers on the glass, and Shelley wondered when he was going to get to the point.

"Look, I don't have much time," she said. "The footage is in place; Gaius Baltar is finished with the humans. If you've got a plan that'll get me off this ship tomorrow, let's hear it. Those Marines weren't easy to fool."

Cavil snorted. "Sure. What'd you do, make like you were throwin' a ball and then run the other way when they went to fetch it?"

"They're not _dogs_, brother. It was a little harder than that."

"I had a dog once. On Picon, when I was pretending to be a priest. You wouldn't know it from lookin' at 'em, but dogs are higher creatures than humans, actually. They understand loyalty, fidelity, obedience... you'd almost think they were mechanical in nature. They're soft, too, softer than Raiders. Nice to pet."

"Stop it, One. Can you get me out of here or not?"

"In a minute. There's a point to all this."

She glanced back at the sealed hatch. "All right, but make it quick."

"Y'see, sister, good dogs and good machines both know their place. They know what they have to do, and they do it, and they do it _right_ the first time, yeah? They each have their place in the Plan."

"Yes. All for the Plan," she murmured.

"Got it in one. What was _your_ part in the Plan?"

"To infiltrate the Galactica," she said carefully. "To deliver evidence which would discredit Gaius Baltar, and then return to our people."

"Well, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, you didn't succeed. The humans have found you out, Six. You need to get off this ship, and you need to do it a lot quicker than we thought you would. Tonight."

"What? Tonight? There's no Resurrection Ship--"

"Don't worry about that, I got it covered. Just do what I tell you and it'll all go nice and smooth, OK? We'll get you outta here."

"How? This wasn't in the Plan, One."

He smiled wryly. "Frak-ups are never part of the Plan, sister. But we'll think of something. For now, keep your head down and don't let those Marines catch you. I'll meet you back here at five local time, got it?"

"At five."

He turned, as if to go, and then suddenly turned back again, squinting at the clock on the wall above her head. "Stupid frakkin' eyes. Hey, what time's that say?"

She turned, glancing up at it. "It's one-fifty--"

---

Skulls opened the hatch to the head, and stopped abruptly. The old priest was in there, washing his hands at the sink; Skulls hadn't expected to see him up so late. Skulls stepped back out and waited until he was finished, meeting him outside the door.

"Hello, son. Didja ever think about what I told you?"

"Yes, sir," Skulls said. "It's hard advice, but... maybe it helped, a little."

"Sure it did. Forgiveness is important, y'know? We all have our part in the Gods' plan; you do your thing and everybody else does theirs, simple as that. Even the Cylons." He smiled. "Keep that in mind. You may be here to fight them, but you can't hang onto vengeance forever."

"No," Skulls said. "Not forever. Just until we kill 'em all."

To his great surprise, the old priest laughed at that, wheezing his amusement. "So say we all, son. Hey, watch your step in here, will ya? I mopped up a bit, an' threw the trash out."

"Thank you, Brother. Everybody always forgets, 'til it gets real nasty in here."

"No problem, my pleasure. Gods be with you."

"And with you," Skulls muttered, already forgetting him.

After two extra shifts running Marines to Cloud Nine and the Zephyr, he was more than ready to crash.


End file.
